Lone Rider with the Strength to Withstand 1000
by kabukimono
Summary: Inspired by 'Ikkitousen'. Modern AU; Genderswitch. It's said there's no such thing as a coincidence. 400 years after their time, can the warriors of the Sengoku Era change their fate? Or is destiny's hold too strong? Rating may change!


Author's Note: This fic is inspired by the series "Ikkitousen", where the characters are all reincarnations of Chinese warriors from the era of the Three Kingdoms (about 200 AD). If you're familiar with the series, this fic won't contain near as much sex and fanservice, but in keeping with the overall feel of it, many (but not all) of the characters have had their gender switched as they go through the same events that occurred throughout Sengoku Basara.

… As this fic is based on _Sengoku Basara_ and not the historical Sengoku Era, many of the events that occur aren't strictly historical, but have been changed to roughly keep with the plotline of the series (roughly). The character's given names have been changed to reflect the new era and bodies, but their last names rename the same.

* * *

It's said, there's no such thing as a coincidence.

Five days before the start of Sanada Yukiko's first year of high school, there was a fire in the small, but wealthy shrine that had been situated across the street from the new school that had been built in the heart of the town. As she walked past, having taken one of the last days of summer to examine the building and its surroundings, , she heard the onlookers talk about the incident, comparing it to one that had happened years earlier. The tragedy now, was that not even the head monk had managed to survive the blaze, and their already diminished numbers were now down to none.

" It's such a shame," she overheard one woman say as she slipped past the crowd by the police barrier. "He was a nice enough man. And so strong! "

"Did you hear that there's already a buyer for the land?" Her friend whispered back. "They're going to be cursed."

Yuki, as she preferred to be called, felt uneasy as she listened to them, though she had walked out of earshot. "Cursed." She repeated to herself as she boarded the train. What a way to start the school year.

She had already felt both nervous and excited, considering that their town was fairly small, and that she'd spent much of her childhood in smaller schools, and had fully intended of attending the same high school in Tokyo that her family had gone to for generations. Now though, the city had built this larger school with the intent of consolidating the neighboring towns into one prestigious location, and Yuki's adoptive father had encouraged her to take the entrance exam. She had, of course, taken his advice without second thought and though studying wasn't her strong suit, she'd done well enough.

But now, the school sounded like it was _cursed_. It hadn't even opened and already there was death surrounding it.

She shook her head as she got off on her stop. She was probably over thinking things, or maybe she was looking for an excuse not to go. She had been _so_ excited to follow in Takeda Harunobu's footsteps, and though the change in schools had been his idea, there was a part of her that couldn't help but wish she could study in the same place that he had.

Harunobu was a kind, strong and intelligent man, and he was the adoptive father to not only Yukiko, but also to an abundance of children who had found themselves without parents. Her own had died many years ago, in a fire that had hospitalized her and left her with only an aging grandfather. The man had passed away not too long after, and it was his old friend that had stepped up to take the girl when it seemed she had no other options.

"I'm home!" She called into the foyer of their mansion as she slipped off her shoes, and smiled warmly at her adopted siblings as the youngest two clambered in to greet her.

Harunobu could be strict, but despite everything he had opened his home to those in need, and Yukiko knew that she would never forsake his teachings. Even if there was something in her stomach that twisted at the thought of her new school and the curse of it.

As Yukikostepped carefully over the energetic toddlers, she almost lost her balance. Before she could fall, a hand reached out to steady her arm. "Well?" Saizou, her older brother and best friend, steadied her before she could fall. "Satisfy your curiosity?"

Saizou was also going to attend Hino Gakuen, though at a year older, Yuki doubted she'd see very much of him. "It was… interesting," she admitted, as the little ones finally overcame her defenses, latching onto her legs and begging her to play with them (she wore pants for this very reason). "Saizou-"She started, suddenly. "Did you hear about the fi—"She stopped when the older boy nodded, grimly.

"'Course I did. And he wants to speak to you." _He_ could only be one person.

It was a silly little thing, but only the babies called him "father" when addressing him. The others who had come into the clan were old enough to remember their own parents, and could keep their own name. The older ones were allowed to call him whatever they want, whether it be his given name, his family name, or even an old title such as – "Oyakata-sama!" Yukiko cried a few minutes later as she entered the man's study.

He had been standing at the window, quietly speaking on his cell phone and immediately she flushed with shame. How could she have interrupted him without thought? Had he not gestured for her to stay, she might have quietly bowed out of the room. As it was, she knelt on the floor and kept her head down. It was a tradition that she couldn't help but keep. Her grandfather, when he was alive, had taught her a lot about manners and ancient ways of the warrior, and as a child they had enchanted her enough that even now, it was like second nature.

"We'll have to continue this conversation later," she heard him say, and she couldn't help but flinch at the light click of the phone being hung up.

If he'd requested to see her privately, and not in the presence of her other siblings, then it must have been very important, and she tried not to fidget or look up as he thought.

And then, finally – "Yukiko!" The man bellowed, and she felt his fist collide with her face with enough force that she nearly flew back against the bookshelves. It didn't _hurt,_ but it was certainly startling, and she knew that it was because she'd messed up. Rubbing her face gently as she extracted herself from the mess of papers, she hurried back to him. "What have I told you before about knocking?" He asked her, and though his fist had been mighty indeed, there was a hint of a smile.

When she was younger, she had preferred to act as masculine as possible, as though a boy would be more helpful to her new family than a girl. She'd begged and pleaded for Harunobu to train with her, to help her build up her strength, and though he'd stop dolling out physical punishments as she'd gotten older, every now and then he tested her again. She knew it looked shocking to outsiders, but it was only because she could take it without injury that he dared.

And better yet, he encouraged her to return every strike if she felt it necessary. Something that she might have done, if today hadn't been special.

"I'm sorry, Oyakata-sama." She said. Her cheek felt numb. "I was just so excited – Saizou said you wanted to speak to me privately, he mentioned something about…"

"A gift."

She _was_ a girl, for all her boyish inclinations, and there was an excited flush on her cheek. Any gift from her father, whether it be knowledge or material was something she cherished.

Harunobu nodded, and he turned away, signaling with one hand that she was to sit in one of the plush chairs he furnished the room with. She did (after picking it up), and sat with her hands in her lap, watching him.

"A gift, and a warning." The man said, and her excitement faded somewhat. With the setting sun behind him, his outline looked nothing but ominous and there was something different about the slant of his shoulders now, as he sat behind his wide oak desk. His face was almost unseeable, but there was something in the air as he took out a small box.

"A… warning, sir?" She asked. In the dimming light, she could see the box was embellished with the clan crest of her ancestors. Perhaps this was something from her late parents?

Noticing that she had been watching, his hand moved to cover the crest. "Times are changing. What happens in the next few years will be very important, and you must be prepared for anything. Your very life may stake on it."

"Sir…" she already knew that high school was important, but he was acting as though it would be a life-or-death situation.

"Listen to me, Yukiko. You've received the very best that I can give you, but you must shape your destiny with your own hands, now." Before she could ask what he meant, he had opened the box. Despite herself, she leaned forward to see what was inside.

She didn't have to lean very far – the six coins caught the setting sun.

"This is from your father," Harunobu told her as he lifted the necklace out. "And from your grandfather. They both wore it when they were your age."

For once, Yuki was at a loss for words. Both men had been dead for many years, and she'd thought that they'd lost everything in the fire. So entranced with the necklace as she was, that she almost didn't notice the man beckoning her closer, and she couldn't move fast enough. She knew what he wanted, almost instinctively, and as she approached, she turned away from him, pulling her long brown hair out of the way.

"It's a symbol. Not only of your clan, but of yourself." He told her as he fastened the cord behind her neck. The coins were cool and heavy against her throat. "And they will keep you safe."

"I don't understand," she said, her other hand lifting to caress the ancient coins. They felt safe, and familiar. Something that was left of her family, of the parents she no longer remembered.

"You will."

She wanted to ask him what he meant, but he sent her out of the room instead of answering.

The Sanada six coins…

Suddenly, Yuki didn't feel very hungry, even though dinner would be served soon. Instead, she excused herself and headed up to the room that she shared with her younger sister Chiyo. Chiyo was, thankfully, not in the room for once, and though Yuki normally didn't mind her like-minded sister's presence, she wanted to be alone for once.

She was a Sanada, of course, and when she'd been old enough to make the decision on her own whether to keep her biological name or her adoptive father's name, she'd done some research into her family's past, going back as far as she could. Most of them in the house had done the same, and their father had encouraged it.

What she'd found, at the age of 13, had been … interesting. Exciting. Her ancestor Sanada Yukimura – whom she liked to imagine she was named for – and his exploits across the country of Japan. His way of fighting, his samurai honor. It had been like a fairy tale, and for a summer she and Chiyo and Saizou had reenacted old battles, her particular favorite being the Summer Siege of Osaka. Even now, the way she'd pretended to _be _Sanada Yukimura influenced her behavior, in her polite and almost archaic speech. Harunobu had always told them that there were lessons to be learned in looking at the past, and she'd taken those words to heart. The lessons of her ancestor – and those who had come since and before – were ones she hadn't ever wanted to forget.

As she reached a hand up to slide a finger across the coins, so heavy and cold against her chest, she wondered if they had ever been _his._

It made her smile. Old fairy tales and ancient history.

The smile was soon wiped off her face, as pain blossomed over her breast. With a gasp, she pressed her fingers into her skin as though that would soothe it, and she bit her lip until she tasted blood, trying not to scream or shout, or alert her family to the problem. It _hurt, _it hurt so badly, as though invisible hands were carving into her skin.

Yukiko had been born with a birthmark over her chest, a small brown circle that , Saizou had once joked resembled a coin. To her, it resembled a blob, but now that blob was aching and burning, as though it was being seared off her flesh.

The pain was over almost as soon as it had begun, though a dull, hot ache remained in its wake. Whimpering despite herself, Yuki rolled off her bed and stumbled to the mirror that she and Chiyo shared, ripping her shirt open as she moved, both for the fresh air and to examine what had just _happened._

Her skin was inflamed, bright red as though she'd been burned with a hot poker and despite the relative darkness of her room, she could see the mark over her right breast as clear as day. That small birthmark of hers was there no longer.

The Sanada six coins…

She brushed her fingers over the sensitive skin, wincing even as she traced what felt like the edges of the coins. This was something she had never heard, nor imagined.

Harunobu had, she knew, a tattoo of the Takeda crest over his chest. It was something she'd seen often as a child, when he joined them to play on the beach on their family outings. Saizou had three pronged ninja star that, he told her, he'd gotten on a whim one day last year. It made him look 'manly'.

But this wasn't a tattoo. This was something more, and the heat that throbbed in her fingers and chest as she continued to examine it was both painful and soothing. It was a fire that was threatening to engulf her…

"So…" She heard Saizou's quiet voice from the window, and though years of experience should have prepared her for the older boy to show up without warning, she still shrieked, spinning around and knocking some of Chiyo's make up off the vanity. "You got one too?"

"You —" Her admonishment to him – that he should have made noise, that he should have knocked, that he should have used the door like everyone else in the household did – faded when she realized what he'd said. "I… I have one too?" She glanced down at her chest, her shirt still sitting open as she'd left it.

Saizou was, if nothing else, more of a ninja than she'd ever known anyone to be, and he landed on her carpet with a soft thud. "Well, yeah. Just look at you. Six coins. Sanada."

She was comfortable enough with her body – with him – that normally she might not have cared, but this new marking of hers made her button her shirt back up. "This is…"

"Listen." His voice suddenly serious, Saizou leaned in close to her, his hand moving to squeeze her shoulder. "This is your destiny."

"My… destiny?" She didn't understand, but the look in his eyes - the heavy, almost exhausted look, made her lean toward him. _He_ understood, and she knew that he'd help her through this, just like he'd helped her through countless other things. The brand on her chest pulsed with his closeness, the pain numbing, as though it knew too. This was something familiar. This was right.

So close that they were, she didn't notice him pulling open his own shirt, until his hand had drifted down to her wrist, pulled her hand up to gently touch his chest – his tattoo. She'd never felt it before, though she'd seen it plenty of times, and just like her new marking, his was raised against his skin. Her fingers throbbed as she touched the brand, and that burning sensation on her chest ebbed further, until the only heat she could feel was the heat of the man's body. "Yeah." He said finally, once the heat had dissipated fully, her fingers tracing out every line, each point of his brand. "Your destiny. But you're not gonna face it alone. You and I – were connected, don't you feel it?"

Had she thought the only heat was his body? There was heat spreading across her face now, as though his proximity was heating her up as well. It wasn't the same fire that she'd felt when the brand had been seared into her skin, but a different flame that licked its way up her arm. "We—I feel it." She just _knew_ what he was talking about.

Whatever was going to happen – they were in it together. They had to be.

She opened her mouth to speak, when Saizou wrapped his arms suddenly around her and squeezed her tightly. "You should come down to dinner." He told her when he leaned back, and that heavy, serious look was gone off his face, instead replaced with his usual easy grin. "Chiyo made your favorite, and there's ice cream. Chocolate."

Yuki really didn't feel like eating, but she nodded all the same. "I'll be down there soon."

He didn't wait for an answer, but left (through the door), leaving her alone in the darkness of her room. Sitting down on her bed, she slipped a hand back into her shirt, fingering those raised lines again.

It seemed it was time to get out those fairy tales and ancient legends again…

* * *

She woke early the next day, unusual for a spring morning, and was out of bed well before Chiyo, making sure to keep quiet so that the younger girl wouldn't wake. Where Yuki was fiery and energetic, Chiyo was quiet and steadfast. Unlike the rest of the children in the house, Chiyo still had an older family member living, and had been raised fully expecting to go back to that family once she was mature enough, to carry on its name and traditions. They teased her for it, sometimes, but she had shrugged it all off. It was what she'd decided to do, and there was nothing that would change that.

Chiyo was also very cute, with short black hair and serious amber eyes. Though she was still small, there was an abundance of strength in her movements and like Yukiko, she had asked Harunobu personally to mentor her. At the time, Yukiko had been jealous that she was no longer her father's favorite, but had eventually grown to accept it. In her own way. They shared his affection, and wasn't that enough?

Yuki, though, was nothing like her sister. Oh, she was pretty enough, and she took good care of her hair, her one vanity. But she was thin where Chiyo had already begun to be curvy, and when she had her long hair tied up, she could be mistaken for a boy (and had, on more than one occasion). She favored plain boyish, baggy clothing to Chiyo's feminine skirts and flowery patterns. It was something Yuki had been teased for before, and it was something she had in mind as she dressed in one of Saizou's hand-me-down jackets, eying Chiyo's colorful spring wardrobe in their closet.

"Yellow wouldn't look good – this is fine."

Today it didn't matter _what_ she wore- no one was going to pay attention to a person's wardrobe in the library. She had things to research, and intended to spend all day in the library, if she could. The idea of being stuck indoors on such a nice day, hunched over books for hours, was not a pleasant one, but she needed to get it over with. ''_No pain, no gain', isn't that right?_' She thought.

She had almost left the room when light struck her eye. She paused. The rising sun had caught the shiny surface of the six coins and reflected them, right against her face. Yuki had taken them off when she'd gone to bed, and had left them on the dressing table she shared with her sister. She'd _intended_ to leave them behind, to save them for a special occasion. But now, looking at them... it didn't seem right. She didn't _feel_ right until after she'd tied the cord securely behind her neck, and only then did she leave the room, finally.

It was early enough in the day that she seemed to be the only one awake, tiptoeing through the house to make herself breakfast before she left. It was so quiet, so still and so lonely that she was soon too immersed in her own movements that she didn't notice the man entering the kitchen behind her until he cleared his throat.

"Oyataka-sama!" She cried, and the sandwich she'd made flopped pathetically off its plate.

"Yuki." Her adoptive father replied, and though she turned back to save her breakfast, she could hear the smile in his voice, see it out of the corner of his eye. "Just the person I was looking for."

Any embarrassment that she might have had faded when she realized what he'd said. "Ohh…! Do you have an errand for me to run?" All thoughts of her current quest were swept away – she still had several more days of summer, and if her father needed her, then she'd be glad to help. She wanted to ask him about the gift - the coins that pressed against her throat, and the odd branded that had been burned onto her skin, but it could wait. What was more important was his request.

"I have a meeting today with a rival," Harunobu told her. A meeting – that explained why he was also awake so early, and unlike herself, he looked stately and impeccable as always. "We wanted it to be informal, so Saizou's offered to accompany me instead of Haruyuki."

Harunobu had inherited a small, but well to do business from his father, but his real strength lie in politics, which he had only recently begun to push into. While the management of the franchise was usually the responsible of family friends, Yamamoto Haruyuki had become her father's lawyer, and was his closest advisor – after the death of her father and grandfather.

Though he typically kept most of the children out of his affairs, as they grew older an inevitable curiosity would overtake them, and Yuki in particular was looking forward to assisting him as needed to further his career, though the idea of becoming a politician herself was a foreign one. While his grown son was expected to inherit the family business, politics was a more open path, and even now none of them knew where it could lead them.

"A meeting?" She repeated. Saizou, as the oldest in the house did seem like a good choice to have, if it was an informal one. Like herself, Saizou was more interested in supporting their father's endeavors than focus on his own, and the boy's ability to memorize paperwork was unmatched by anyone that she knew. She had no idea what the meeting was about – and she wouldn't ask – but it seemed Harunobu was serious about it.

He nodded, again. "To discuss some of our stances." And now he paused. "The hotel we're meeting at is one owned by an old friend family of his, and one I have never been to before. I'd like you to go and see it yourself – perhaps with a friend or two – and tell me if you think it's fair. I don't suspect him of any foul play, of course, but this particular person is known for being… opportunistic."

Opportunistic. She wondered what he could mean by that.

"I… you want me to go look at this hotel with a few friends?" She flushed. Despite her age, she had very few friends at school – indeed, most of the student populace at her junior high had assumed she was male from the way she behaved, and while it had been enjoyable at first, it had quickly become embarrassing, especially when she tried to use the toilet.

Most of the people she was close to were family, or family friends, and she hadn't bothered to branch out. It just hadn't seemed necessary at the time, not when she had other, better things to do.

He seemed to know what she was thinking. Raising an eyebrow, the look on his face shifted from amused and open to amused, but stern. "Take the morning to visit the hotel, and then maybe the park. Perhaps you should go shopping. I'm sure you'll meet a few people your age. School _is_ starting soon, Yukiko. You'll need experience and connections in your life."

She felt admonished, shamed, and though his voice was never unkind when he spoke to his adoptive children, she could tell that her lack of social skills was disappointing. He was right, of course. If she'd wanted to help him, or follow in his footsteps, she'd need to broaden her horizons, expand her networks.

Flushing too hotly to speak, she nodded at him. If he wanted her to go out, she could – and she would. And maybe she could stop by the library on her way home. Surely there would be people there she could speak too…

As Harunobu turned to leave, he paused in the doorway. "It's a nice hotel. You may want to change clothes – borrow one of Chiyo's dresses. "

Yuki looked down her jacket and shorts. What was wrong with this?

* * *

In the end, Yuki had ended up changing into one of her "presents", the few dresses that her adoptive father bought her every year "just in case". It was crimson, her favorite color, and though the floral pattern was far too feminine for her taste, she supposed it was a nice enough dress to look presentable in the hotel she was supposed to go to.

It had helped that Chiyo had woken up when Yuki had torn their closet apart, and had _insisted_ upon doing the older girl's makeup_. 'To get you into the role!'_ Chiyo had said, brandishing the brush menacingly close to Yuki's face. _'Pretend that you're a super secret agent, off to sabotage the enemy.'_

That thought had actually been tempting, though as she stumbled for the fifth time in the low heels, she didn't _feel_ like a super secret agent. She felt so out of place, so lost, and she looked even more so.

"I look like a girl," Yuki said to herself as she stopped to examine her reflection in a store mirror, smoothing down the skirt nervously over her knees. Her feet ached from the heels, her hair was being pulled too tightly by the glittery clip she'd borrowed, and the skirt was long but too loose, and she swore that it kept blowing up.

At least she'd worn shorts underneath it.

Still, her arrival at the hotel could not have come soon enough. She took a moment to sit in one of the thick leather chairs in the lobby, stretching out her feet and looking around.

Truthfully, she didn't know what she was supposed to be doing. They had told her to scout the location out, but she doubted she'd be allowed into the few meeting rooms the hotel had. It seemed like a normal, if not expensive, hotel. It was early enough that the lobby was still relatively clear of people, and though she didn't recognize any of them – was she supposed to? – they seemed like decent people. Quiet. Reserved. _Wealthy_, she thought, eying the jacket one woman was wearing as she stood with her husband.

If Harunobu had been worried about the press, or about his political rival showing up with a group of supporters, he had nothing to worry about. It was still some time before their slated meet up time, but she saw nothing but a hotel lobby, with nice, quiet –

"Hey!"

The sudden shout was startling to both her, and to the woman in the coat, who dropped her purse in shock, where it hit the ground with a low noise.

Yukiko, who had been in the act of pulling her cell phone from her bag, let it fall back as she looked around for the source of the disturbance.

Two teenagers were walking – though one was practically storming – up to the desk. A girl, with curly brown hair and what seemed to be her brother, a tall boy with messy black hair. Yukiko was unable to see his face, as he was turned away from her when he slammed his hands onto the front desk.

"Tojirou-sama, please-" Yuki heard the girl plead over the boy's shouts (or perhaps while he was taking in a breath of air). "This isn't a big deal."

The disturbance was almost embarrassing, and while she watched other patrons shrink away from the commotion, she moved closer, curious as to what they were saying. She glanced at the clock.

Whatever they were saying, she would never know, because she was positively shocked when the boy reached out to grab the clerk by the front of his shirt. Though she could hear the gasps around her, as more people came into the room around her, the blood thundered through her ears in her anger, drowning out whatever he might be saying.

She had no idea who this boy was, but how _dare_ he start something? Not today! Not here! Not when this place was so important to both her father and his _rival_, and before she could stop herself or even think of what to say, she'd rushed to the boy's side and tugged on his shoulder, dragging him around to face her.

"How dare you intrude upon this place!" She practically shouted, and though the boy let go of the worker in his shock – possibly annoyance – she was too angry to care about that. "Do you even know what you're doing?"

He was infuriatingly calm as he stepped away from her, and from the desk, and though she could see both his companion's hand fall upon his arm, and the worker pick up the phone, the only thing that mattered was him. Now that they were up close, she could see his face in more detail. He looked _foreign,_ with sharp features and a blazing blue eye. One eye, because the other was obscured by his dark hair falling over the side of his face. He looked distressingly familiar, but his looks weren't important now.

It was his attitude, the way his teeth were bared in a smug, tight smirk.

"What's this country bumpkin _doing_?" He asked, half to himself and half to the girl standing beside him. "Doesn't she know who I am?"

It was his voice – now that it was no longer warped by the shouting – that tipped her off and jarred her memory. Smooth, self-assured, arrogant.

"Dokuganryuu – Date Tojirou!" She gasped.


End file.
